


Friendships Heal

by ItWasUs (AnonymousObsesser)



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: IDK pairings are undetermined, Main character is OC, Not a Mary Sue but just as random, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Yuki is awesome and adorable, Yuki just wants to go to school, and she is honestly so confused because the hosts are weird, trigger warning for abuse, trigger warning for child abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 11:20:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8665576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousObsesser/pseuds/ItWasUs
Summary: When Yuki moves to Japan with her mother, she seems like the girl who has it all. She's rich without having to take over a company, she's smart, she knows a score of languages, she can play several instruments...But Yuki has a secret. And the Host Club is about to find out exactly what it is.[ON HIATUS UNTIL I CAN GET MY LIFE BACK ON TRACK AFTER FUCKING UP SPECTACULARLY--MORE INFO IN CHAPTER SEVEN NOTES]





	1. Chapter 1

The pink walls hover over her as she sprints down them on her way to class. Her yellow dress swishes around her, showing just the barest hint of white tights underneath. The thick soles of her platform heels  _ thunk _ against the marble floors, the only sound in the quiet school.

_ I can’t believe I’m late! I told them, seven thirty. Or maybe I told them eight…damn. _

It’s the first day of school (well, for her—everyone else started a month ago), and second year Yukitari Honda is frantic. She searches the walls for her room number, nearly missing it before doing a double take.  _ 2A! Finally!  _ She hangs a sharp right and bursts through the door, already shouting apologies.

“I’m so sorry, Sensei!” she exclaims before stopping abruptly to catch her breath. “I—”

“Yes, yes,” Sensei Maki says tiredly. “It’s quite alright. Just take your seat, Miss…”

“Um…Honda? Honda Yukitari?” It sounds like a question, but Japanese isn’t exactly her first language.

“Yes, well, take your seat, Honda-san.” He turns back to the board.

“Yes, thank you, Sensei,” she says quietly, bowing respectfully. She scans the aisles, searching for an empty desk. Finally, she finds it—the only empty seat in the whole class, practically smack dab in the middle of the room. She makes a beeline straight for it, hastily retreating from the front of the class.

She takes out a new black notebook and a pen. It (as well as the ink inside) is her favorite color—purple—and her name is engraved on the side.

Yuki carefully writes the date at the top of the page before writing down what is already on the board. Though it is quite a lot of writing, she finishes within minutes and is able to continue along with the class for a few minutes until she finally looks up and around the room. She begins writing down other things, though she keeps an eye on the board and one ear focused on the teacher as she drifts.

_** The whole school is pink…a bit odd for a school, but it’s okay. Not like there’s anything  wrong with pink… ** _

_** The class has few notable students. The boy to my right has black hair and wears glasses; he pays almost no attention to the teacher, though he still seems to have an odd sort of intelligence. His eyes are the color of coal, and they have a strange fog-like feeling to them. Like he’s purposefully being mysterious. He continues to write in a notebook, but I can’t see what he’s writing. Perhaps he is like me, and writes everything. ** _

_** The boy to my left is blond with blue—no, purple—eyes. He has an…eccentric personality. He seems sweet, though. His eyes are honest. Judging from what little conversation we’ve been permitted to have in class, he and the black-haired boy are friends. I don’t see why—they’re complete opposites. ** _

_** Many of the girls openly admire them both. ** _

Yuki sighs, looking around the room for a moment. She notices a few looks from her classmates—the blond boy seems to look at her the most, with curiosity. Others look at her with a wide range of emotions; there’s curiosity, excitement, jealousy, hatred. (Yuki assumes these last two are because of where she’s sitting, not who she is.)

_** This is going to be a long year. ** _


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Yuki rises on her own. Rather than ask anyone to wake her (she learned her lesson on that yesterday, didn’t she?), she simply set her cell’s alarm. She dresses in the yellow school uniform and carefully curls her hair into a tight bun. She hasn’t worn makeup once in her whole life—she doesn’t intend to change that now.  _ Hopefully this makes a better impression than yesterday. _

It was bad enough that Yuki didn’t look like a traditional Japanese woman, what with her uber-tan skin and her long wavy chestnut hair and her big dark (almost black, really) green eyes. She was shorter than most, not even five feet tall, and was constantly wearing platform heels—they’d practically been her staple since she was eleven. On top of that, she wasn’t very ladylike at all. She preferred jeans to dresses, hats to hairstyles, martial arts to teatime. Though she tried to talk as little as possible, her voice was loud, and she had a short temper.

Even with that, in her haste to get ready the day before, Yuki had tied the bow of her dress wrong, put her shoes on the wrong feet, and somehow ripped her petticoat. Had she been on time, she might have made a good impression.  _ Oh, well… _ She  _ had  _ fixed it during lunch, in the girls’ bathroom.

The second half of the day had gone much smoother, and her notes were quite extensive—she’d been able to learn many things, simply by watching. No one had talked to her all day, much to her disappointment. But, that’s what she gets, she supposed—she looked horrible that day, and the one person who had tried to talk to her (the blond boy sitting next to her in class), she had blown off in her haste to fix her clothes during lunch hour. She hadn’t meant to, she just wanted to look better.

When she got back to class, looking slightly more appealing, she found that he’d apparently changed his mind when she was gone, and he didn’t look at her for the rest of the day.

_ Perhaps he’ll try again today _ , Yuki muses as she walks swiftly to the sidewalk outside her apartment, where a car is waiting.

Though she and her mother were just as wealthy as other families with children in Ouran, they chose to live simply. Yuki’s father had died nearly six years before, which was where the wealth came from—he’d been the owner of a rather prominent textile business, and, seeing that he had no heir to take over straight away, the company was bought out completely by a much larger company.

The family received an exorbitant amount of money—enough to more than sustain it for at least five generations. (And they didn’t get but a small fraction of the fortune—just imagine what the complete sum was.) She remembers there being something about how the company buying them out needed a reliable source of textiles. They were in fashion, they said, and had been buying from them for years. Only suitable that they should take it.

Well, something like that.

The only condition of the purchase was that they not interfere with the company ever again.

Yuki couldn’t quite remember the name…Ketakin? Hechasion? She’s not very familiar with Japanese names (despite her own), and can’t even begin to guess at it.

Regardless, the money from the buyout was more than enough to keep her and her mother happy. They lived in an apartment—a rather large one, but an apartment all the same—with just two maids and their driver. Her and her mom cooked and kept track of schedules and everything. She’d only asked a maid to wake her up the day before because she’d been tired and couldn’t find her phone in the near vicinity to set an alarm. Being late was, apparently, her punishment; had she not stayed awake for a week stressing about what was going to happen to her in this new territory, perhaps she wouldn’t have been so tired.

Anyway, while her life might’ve  _ seemed _ much simpler than the other students’ lives, she was still obviously higher class (as could be seen from her designer wardrobe, filled with clothes designs not yet released). Besides, it wasn’t like they wanted to  _ keep _ the company, anyway. Not with how it made her father act…with what it made him  _ do _ …

She shakes her head to clear it as the driver holds the door open.  _ Don’t think about it. It’s over. _

On the ride to school, Yuki goes over her notes from the previous day.  Though it’s the beginning of the year, she already has more than enough to confuse a person. With her school notes, observations, and diary entries all jumbled together, few people would be able to discern what was what or where anything was going. Truly, though, it was not difficult; every time she started a new type of writing, she drew a star in the margin next to the first line. Of course, that only helped if people were fluent in the many languages she knew—each sentence was in a different language from the two previous and following. It was enough to turn a person around, she supposed, but she felt it was the only way to keep her mind sharp on the translations. If she got too out of practice, she’d lose all her hard work. Nearly twelve years of practice to become fluent in eight languages would be down the drain. 

She’d written descriptions of everything, from those of what the teacher said to the way certain kids walked to the smooth wood of the class tables to speech patterns to personalities to…well, you get it. She’d taken up the habit after her father died as a way of getting her bearings. She knew she had at least suspected when her father would…have an episode. She started wondering if she could tell other things, from other people. It was a…coping mechanism that spiraled into a habit and then into a career option. She could be a detective, or a shrink, or an interrogator—anything.

“We are here, Miss.”

She snaps from her thoughts to smile up at her driver, accepting his hand after putting her notes in her bag. “Thank you, Xiao,” she says as she steps from the car.

“Of course, Miss,” he smiles as he shuts her door. “I will be back ten minutes after clubs end to pick you up. Have a good day in school, Miss.”

“I will,” Yuki says, smiling. “You have a nice day, as well.”

“I shall try, Miss.”

He bows as she steps away from the car before getting in and driving away.

Yuki sighs, turning to go into the school.  _ Let’s hope this is a better day. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter is updated.
> 
> Note--I spelled Hitachiin wrong on purpose. She can't remember it.


	3. Chapter 3

This time, she's at least fifteen minutes early, and reaches her seat with no mishaps with the teacher. The two boys from yesterday are already there, with the blond standing in front of the desk that the other is sitting behind. Coal-Eyes doesn't seem to be paying attention to whatever Blondy is saying, but he _does_ look up when Yuki pulls her chair out. Seeing his look, Blondy turns to her as well before breaking out into a smile.

"Ah!" he exclaims, grabbing her hand just before she sits down. He spins her into his arms, dipping her low to the ground. "You, sweet cherry blossom, must be the most beautiful I have ever seen. Tell me, what is your name?" He leans close to her face, so that all she can see are his sparkling purple eyes. He seems genuinely happy to see Yuki, which is probably why she surprises herself by answering.

"Um…Yukitari—I mean, Honda Yukitari?" she stutters out. It sounds like a question, so she blushes and tries again. "Honda Yukitari. People call me Yuki, though."

He nearly squeals, shaking Yuki and nearly dropping her on the floor. In response, she grabs his arm, trying to hold herself up.

"Uh, could I maybe stand up now?"

"Yes! Yes, of course," he says, bringing her upright. He lets all of her go but her hand, which he places a kiss onto. "I am Suoh Tamaki. It is an honor to meet such a beautiful princess." He bows charmingly, and his eyes are so honest, she finds herself giggling.

She curtsies, humoring him. "And it is an honor to meet _you_ , prince Tamaki. Though, I must disagree with you—I am hardly as beautiful as you say, and I'm far from being as special as a princess." She rises, casting a look at him from under her thick lashes. "Thank you for the compliment, though. Also, I deeply apologize for rushing out yesterday. I simply did not look my best and felt that anyone talking to me must be teasing me. I am sorry."

Yuki turns back to her desk, away from Tamaki's shocked (scandalized, really) look, and lowers herself into her seat. For a moment, her shoe seems to catch on something, and she hikes her dress up a couple inches—petticoats are so _poofy_ and _inconvenient—_ oh, it's just the table leg. She maneuvers her foot around until it's under the desk before dropping her skirt. Taking out her notebook and flipping to a fresh page, she barely notices the two boys swap looks.

"Yuki," Tamaki asks hesitantly, inching toward her desk.

She looks at him curiously. "Yes, Tama-chan?" For a moment, she thinks he's going to try to convince her that she's pretty. The thought makes her frown. She's not in the mood for false compliments.

"What…is on your foot?"

Confused, Yuki hikes her skirt back up, looking for something suspicious. She sees nothing. "What do you mean?"

"He means your shoes," a smooth voice replies from behind Tamaki. Coal-Eyes stands and approaches her desk confidently. "My apologies for not introducing myself before. I am Otori Kyoya."

"Ah, no trouble," Yuki replies, still confused. The name sounds familiar, but she's still stuck on the shoes. "Now, what about my shoes?"

"They are quite unusual," Kyoya says politely. "You'll see that most of the girls here wear stilettos or flats—almost always from designer brands. Those, however," he nods at her shoes, "don't seem to be any of the three."

"Oh," she says, embarrassed. "Well…I've never been very good at walking in heels—especially stilettos—so I just wear really high platforms. They're flat to walk on, but still give me the added height."

"Why do you need height?" Tamaki asks.

"Just look at the heel," Yuki says, pointing to it. "It adds enough height to make me look like I'm 5'6", but can you guess how tall I normally am?"

Both boys look from her to the shoes. Finally, Kyoya states, "4'8"."

"That's correct, Kyo-chan," she congratulates him politely. She barely notices the irritated look that flashes across his face. "Now, I'm a sixteen year old girl. Could you imagine what could happen to me if I went around as short as I normally am? I would be bullied, at the very least. I would know. Why do you think I started wearing them in the first place?" With that, she turned back toward the front, trying to keep the tears in and breathe deeply to mask the sobs. She begins a new entry in her notebook, not paying attention to the silent conversation above her head.


	4. Chapter 4

Tamaki and Kyoya are exchanging looks for several minutes before she looks up again, surprised to see them still there. Wiping under her eyes to make sure no tears are there, she looks up at them with wide eyes.

"Did you guys want something else?"

"No, no! Nothing at—"

"What are you writing?" Kyoya asks suddenly, interrupting Tamaki.

Yuki follows his gaze to her notebook, noticing that she's started her observation log for the day. She tells him as much.

"Observation log?" he asks curiously, his glasses flashing in the light.

"Yeah," she says, getting a bit excited. "You see, um…a few years ago, I started writing down little things about what happened during the day and what I thought it meant. It started small, but it grew and grew until I was writing every detail. I get bored pretty easy during class…I have a kind of photographic memory when it comes to school. It weird. But, I realized that I had a great eye for details in people, and I can usually determine lies from truth. In addition to that, I think I want to use it one day. As a career. Or perhaps I'll use my language proficiency as a career. I haven't decided."

Kyoya nods along. "Why is your log written in different languages? What languages is it in?"

"Oh, um…" she trails off, looking at the words on the paper. "Well, I wrote it that way for two reasons: one, so people can't easily read it by just glancing at it, and two, because it helps keep my brain sharp on the translations. Though I am mostly fluent in them, it never hurts to practice, right?" Both boys nod. "As for your other question…" Yuki points to the words, going through the languages one by one, sentence by sentence. "That's Russian, French, Spanish, Italian, German, Farsi, Latin, Greek, and Welsh. I'm fluent in other languages, too but that's how far I've gotten today." She looks at them expectantly, wondering if this is sufficient.

"French?" Tamaki perks up. "You speak French?" he asks excitedly, getting close to her again.

"Oui," Yuki says nervously, automatically going into the language mentioned.

"Have you been to France?" he asks in French.

She feels a smile creep up her face as she continues in the new language. "You speak French, as well? It's nice to meet someone who does. Unfortunately, no, I have not been to France. Someday, perhaps, when I travel Europe, no?"

His eyes light up and he turns to Kyoya. "Perfect!" he exclaims, switching back to Japanese as if nothing happened. "She's absolutely perfect! Oh, Mommy, isn't she just the cutest? Can we keep her?"

"No, Tamaki," Kyoya says flatly, dropping the polite act. His eyes narrow dangerously at Tamaki, frightening Yuki for just a moment. Then his glasses flash; it may look a little creepy, but it ruins the effect of the eye-narrow. "No."

Tamaki pouts for a moment, but then cheers. "No matter!" he exclaims. "I overrule you! I am the King!" He spins around to look at Yuki, pointing at her. "You are my new niece!"

She just stares at him, stunned.

"Um…what?"

"Oh, I just know you're perfect!" Tamaki says, getting a faraway look in his eyes. Suddenly, he snaps out of it. "Oh, you must come to the club this afternoon! You'll get to meet your cousin. I just know you'll get along great!" He looked at her expectantly.

"I'll try," Yuki says, sighing, just as the bell rings, beginning class. She turns back to her desk as he and Kyoya return to their seats.

Kyoya turns to look at her while they wait for the teacher to pass out an assignment. "By the way, Yukitari-san. You should know that, should you ever do something to hurt Tamaki or our other friends, my family employs a private police force." His glasses glint suspiciously.

"How—or why—would I ever do something to hurt anyone?"

"Just so you're informed," he replies, pushing his glasses up. "On another note, should you not arrive at the club within ten minutes of it beginning, we will be forced to discharge one of our members to collect you. I suggest you are on time."


	5. Chapter 5

She's been walking the halls after school, trying to find a place to practice piano, but she could not seem to find any music rooms.

A voice shouts behind her.

"Hello!"

Yuki looks, but sees no one. She hears a few footsteps behind her, but continues walking and thinking about her music. Most of her songs are sad, but then again…her reasons are valid.

"You're Honda, right? Honda Yukitari?"

She turns to find no one there. _Hmm, perhaps I heard wrong…_

There's a tug on her gown, and she looks down, startled. A young looking boy stands in front of her, holding a pink bunny to his chest. He's about a foot shorter than her, since she's wearing her heels.

He seems to be waiting for something, and she realizes it must have been him that asked the question.

"Yes," Yuki replies, crouching a bit to look him in the eyes. This way, he would have to crane his neck. She always hated it when she had to. "Most people call me Yuki, though."

"Ooh! That's cool!"

"I suppose." she says. _He seems familiar…perhaps his family is friends with mine…or maybe he's more famous in something I know. He doesn't look very old, though. More like an elementary schooler than a high schooler. He can't be that well known…_

"No one likes to say my whole name, either. Well, except for Takashi, he still calls me Mitsukuni, but that's just him. Everyone calls him 'Mori' and I'm 'Hani'!" he exclaims, and He seemed to go on forever without a breath. She barely had time to catch up. _Takashi…Mori…Mitsukuni… Hani. They must be…_

"Oh!" she gasps. "You must be Hani-senpai! I've heard about you."

He looks at her curiously. "Really? Have you been to the Host Club?"

"Huh? Oh, no. It's my cousin." She's a bit confused but brushes it off. _Host Club?_

She notices another boy coming towards them. He's much taller than the boy in front of her, more than a head taller than Yuki herself, even with the heels.

She continues answering. "A couple of years ago, he was going on and on about how he wanted to be a karate master, and he dropped your name a few times, I think. Said something about how you were captain of the karate team when you were just a first year. Also, that your cousin Mori-senpai was on the kendo team."

"Ooh, do you like that stuff, too, Yuki-chan?" he asks expectantly.

"A bit," Yuki admits with a blush. "I'm no prodigy, but I've practiced at my mother's dojo since I was a little girl." She leaves out the part about how she wants to be a good martial artist, as well. That would be unladylike.

"That's cool! Taka-chan, did you hear that?" He turns to the tall boy and jumps onto his back, prompting Yuki to stand up straighter; now she's the one who has to crane her neck. "Yuki-chan likes karate!"

"I heard."

"You should come to the Host Club with us! We're having mint tea and chocolate cake today, I think." He looks at Takashi with big eyes. "Is that right, Takashi?"

"No, Mitsukuni," he replies with a straight face. "That was yesterday. Today is green with strawberry."

"Oh, yeah!" He turns back to Yuki. "But you'll still come, right?"

"Um, I'm sorry," she says confusedly, "But what's a…Host Club?"

"You don't know?" Mitsukuni asks, astonished. "Well…" He looks around, but the hall is deserted. "It's kind of hard to explain…maybe you should come see for yourself." He looks so hopeful, it's hard for her to turn the offer down.

"Well," she says, glancing around. "Umm…I was actually going to try to find a quiet music room. I wanted to practice the piano. It's been a while…"

"I bet Tama-chan could teach you! He likes the piano! Right, Taka-chan?"

"Hm." Takashi continues looking forward, as if not paying attention.

"See!" Mitsukuni exclaims. "So now you'll come right? You'll have to wait until the end to practice, but I promise you'll like it!"

He looks down at her with big, sparkly eyes. She has to cave.

"Okay," she says, and Hani cheers. "I guess I can go for a bit." They began walking, and Yuki asks, "By the way, Hani-chan. The 'Tama-chan' that you mentioned…is he, by any chance, Tamaki Su—I mean, Suoh Tamaki?"

He glances at her curiously, before switching back to cheerful. "Yeah! He's a year younger than us! Do you know him?"

"Yeah, he's in my class."

"Then you must know Kyo-chan, too! I thought you were in our class, though, since you called me 'chan'." He just continues looking so happy, and it takes a minute for the confusion to register on Yuki's face.

"Huh?" she asks.

"Just now. You said 'Hani-chan'."

She pauses in her steps, blushing. "I am so sorry, Hani-senpai," she says, catching up. "I had forgotten for a moment. Japanese is my—well, not my second language, more like my eighth. Still, there is no excuse for my forgetfulness." She sees Mitsukuni look at her, serious for once—Takashi raises an eyebrow at her.

Suddenly, Hani giggles. "It's okay, Yuki-chan! I noticed you don't know a lot of our customs!"

"How did you know?"

He looks thoughtful. "Well, you said Tama-chan's name backwards the first time. Plus, the honorifics thing. Besides that, your hair and shoes label you as a foreigner. And you act and talk more like a boy than a girl."

"Wow, is that all?" she asks nervously, blushing again.

He grins. "I heard Tama-chan call you his neice! That means Haru-chan is your cousin!"

"'Haru-chan'?"

"Fujioka Haruhi," he replies.

"Haruhi? Isn't that a girl's name?" she asks without thinking. Then she blushes. "Sorry. I guess I don't have a right to judge what's a girl name or boy name."

Hani laughs again. "You'll see, Yuki-chan! Just wait until we get to the Host Club!"

A pause. "What is it, anyway?" she asks.

"Host Club? Oh, I bet you'll like it, Yuki-chan! All the girls have lots of fun, and you get to pick whoever you wan—" he stops abruptly, turning to look at her. "But, you'll pick me, right?"

"For what?"

"To talk to!"

"Oh," she says. "I suppose."

"Yay!" Hani exclaims. Suddenly, he leans down from his position on Takashi's back. "Here," he says, holding out the stuffed bunny. "You can hold Usa-chan for now, okay? But take good care of him!"

"Alright," she replies, holding the bunny to her. "I will."

"Good!" He gets back in position on Mori's back. "We're almost there, see?" He points to a sign up ahead.

_Music Room 3…_


	6. Chapter 6

"What…is this?"

"It's our Host Club!" Hani exclaims, climbing off of Mori's back. He races over to a boy with glasses, who is sitting at a table near the back of the room. "Kyo-chan! We brought her!"

When the boy looks up, she notices it is none other than her classmate, Otori Kyoya.

As the two make their way over to her, she looks around the room. It is decorated extravagantly, with red velvet couches and delicate porcelain teacups. The room seems to be almost completely occupied by girls—as far as she can see, there are only seven boys there. There's Kyoya, Mitsukuni, and Takashi, of course, but the only other boys are scattered about the young ladies. There's a blond boy (she notices that it's Tamaki), two redheaded boys who are practically identical, and a brunette boy (he kind of looks like a girl). It seems like they have each taken a group of girls to talk with, though Tamaki seems to be doing more wooing than talking.

"Hello," she hears someone say, and turns to see Kyoya looking at her. He's wearing a (fake) smile, carrying that little black book he always seems to have. "Welcome to our Host Club, Princess Honda. I told you I would send for you, didn't I? Who would you like to request today?"

"Uh, I'm not a—"

"She's gonna sit with us today, Kyo-chan," Mitsukuni says, looking up at me. "Right, Yuki-chan?"

"Yes, of course," she says carefully. "I just don't understand—"

"Ooh, who is _this_?"

Yuki feels two arms encircle her, one across her shoulders and another around her waist.

"A new guest?"

She looks to her sides to see that the twins had made their way over without her noticing, one to her left and the other to her right. They seem mischievous, even to her, having just met them. It seeps into their identical hazel eyes, making them sparkle.

"Hello," Yuki says politely, carefully extricating herself from the embrace. She stand carefully to the side, so that the six of them are in a circle. She watches as the twins curve into each other without her blocking their way. She curtsies delicately. "It's nice to meet you." She looks at them each, saying, "I am—"

"Yukitari Honda," they say in unison. "Yeah, we know who you are."

"I'm Hikaru," one says.

"And I'm Kaoru," says the other.

"We're the Hitachiin brothers," they say together.

Hikaru steps up to her (she notices that his voice seems harsher—more mischievous), lifting up her chin. "So, are you a new guest?"

"Hikaru," Kaoru says (his voice is kinder, sensitive), "you can't do that!" He steps in front of his brother, brushing him to the side as he looks at Yuki. He takes her hand carefully, lifting it to his lips. "Have you chosen your Host, yet, my princess?"

"Boys, boys!" a new voice exclaims, making Yuki look up from Kaoru's eyes. Kaoru get pushed into his brother (Yuki notices that they seems to linger together a bit longer than necessary) as a new boy steps up in front of Yuki. "Don't smother the poor girl." Tamaki carefully takes her hand, the one Kaoru did not hold, and places a kiss to her skin. "What brings you our Host Club this afternoon, sweet cherry blossom?" he asks with a wink.

"Uh, Tama-chan, I thought you—"

"Aww, come on, boss," the twins say.

"We did the same thing you would do!" Hikaru exclaims.

"Yeah, boss," Kaoru says. "We were being gentlemen just like you!"

Tamaki ignores them, instead taking her obvious surprise as a chance to tip her backwards in a dip. As she glances around, trying to think of a way to politely get him off of her, she notices that most of the ladies have gathered around them. Many seem to be squealing with either joy or jealously at the attention Yuki is getting from the boys.

"Um—"

"Have you come to be wooed by me today, princess?" Tamaki interrupts, bringing her back up to stand but leaning dangerously close to her.

"I don't think—"

"No?" he asks, seeming to despair for a moment before cheering up. "Well, surely you want _some_ boy! Or else why would you be here?" He spins around, bringing her in front of him so she is facing the other six boys. "What type do you like?"

"What are you—"

He points to Takashi, where flowers have come to frame his handsome face. "Is it the strong, silent type?" He points to Mitsukuni, then the twins, then Kyoya, and each get flowers around their head. "The boy Lolita? The mischievous type? Or the cool type?" He spins her back around, into his arms. "Of course, it is a shame that you don't like the princely type," he sighs. He leans in as if telling her a secret, but says the next part loud enough for everyone to hear. "I'm sure we could have had lots of fun."

The last statement sends a blush to her cheeks, not to mention the way it makes the girls around them scream.

Carefully, oh so carefully, Yuki reaches around her own back to his hands. She grips his wrists, bringing them away from her body and making them stay at his sides. Nodding, she lets go of him and turns back to the other boys.

"Well," Yuki says, still a bit flustered, "I don't think this is quite my scene." She looks around at the others, most of whom look at her with confused eyes. "I think I'll take my leave. Goodbye." She turns to the door, only to feel a tug on her dress. She looks down to find Hani.

"B-but, Yuki-chan!" he cries, tears in his big eyes. "You can't go! You haven't had cake yet!"

She crouches again, taking Mitsukuni's hand and placing his bunny back into it. Truthfully, she wasn't sure how she had managed to hold onto it throughout the ordeal.

"I don't think I can, Mitsukuni," she says quietly. "I'm sorry. Perhaps another day, yes?"

"But," he says, "You said you wanted to practice your piano, and—"

"Did someone say piano?" Tamaki interrupts, stepping up behind Hani.

"Yeah," Hani replies. "Yuki-chan said she was trying to find a piano before we brought her here." Suddenly, he brightens, turning to Tamaki. "You should help her, Tama-chan! You play really good!"

"Of course!" Tamaki says, excitedly taking Yuki's hand and dragging her to the piano in the back of the room. "I'm sure you're just fine on your own, though, Princess." He sits on the bench, leaving plenty of room for her. "What would you like to play?" He looks at her expectantly.

"Oh, um…" she trails off, glancing around for a moment. Everyone has gathered around the piano and they look at them with interest. "Maybe… _Ave Maria_? That's the one I know the best."

"Okay," Tamaki said slowly, turning to the keys.

He starts to play, his fingers gliding across the keys gracefully. After a few seconds, Yuki carefully joins in, finding his rhythm and filling in the missing tunes. It takes a moment, since she's used to playing the entire thing by herself; her keystrokes are rough and her tempo is all wrong for the first three bars. Soon enough, though, they even out, and the two students slowly pick the pace up until their hands are blurry.

The song goes by quickly, but Tamaki simply starts over, leaving her to fill in the gaps again.

"Aww!" the girls squeal.

At the end of the third round, they slowly lift their fingers from the keys as people applaud. She vaguely notices that the ladies are filing out of the room. When everyone but the Hosts are gone, Tamaki looks at her, smiling. She smiles back for a moment. Suddenly, he pulls her up, spinning her around.

"Oh, that was so good!" he exclaims. "I just knew you were a beautiful player! I knew it!"

"Yeah, Yuki-chan, that was great!" Mitsukuni shouts as Tamaki puts her down. Hani rushes up to her, hooking onto her arms and spinning her around again.

She's a bit dizzy, but she smiles anyway as she balances Hani like a child in her arms. "Thank you."

"Hey, boss," Hikaru says to Tamaki, drawing Yuki's attention as he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"Maybe," Kaoru continues, wrapping an arm around her waist from the other side.

"She should be the club's musician," they say in unison.

"I was just going to say that," Tamaki claims.

"No, you weren't, Tamaki-senpai," a new voice says. The girly-looking boy comes up to him, looking up at him. "Stop taking credit for other people's ideas."

"Haruhi," Tamaki whines. "Why are you so mean to Daddy? And about your new cousin, as well."

"It's not mean, senpai," he says with a straight face. "And you're not my father."

Fast forward through the conversation about relations…

"Anyway," Kaoru says, turning back to Yuki.

"You should totally come play for us all the time," Hikaru finishes.

"Oh, yes!" Tamaki suddenly exclaims, jumping up from his emo corner. "Just think of it!" He grabs her up in his arms. "My niece playing beautiful music for us for all time."

"Um…I don't have a choice, do I?"


	7. Chapter 7

Originally, she was going to start at the next Host Club meeting—the next day, Friday. However, it turns out that the next meeting is just one between the Hosts, and they instead spend it playing twenty questions. Well, more like they seven hosts take three hours to ask Yuki a thousand questions, ranging from innocence to achievements to preferences.

Basically, she has to give them her entire life story.

It's hard—she has to tell them her personality, her favorite things, what she does in school, her hobbies. But she never says anything about her father's company. She just says that he died several years ago and the company was bought. The family had been the only owners, so they had gotten a sizable profit—the employees, as far as she knew, kept their jobs. It was just a transfer of authority. She couldn't even say who bought it—she couldn't remember.

Other than that one detail, she told them everything.

"Favorite color?" Tamaki.

"Purple, but it depends on the day."

"What do you mean?" Hikaru.

"Sometimes I like green or blue better."

"Favorite book?" Haruhi.

"Debatable. I read a lot of books."

"How many, on estimate?" Kyoya.

"Easily fifty books a week."

Shocked silence.

"Is that all?"

"No!" Everyone. (Except, obviously, the two most quiet.)

"How many languages do you know?" Tamaki.

"Twenty-six."

"Wow. Can you name them?" Hani.

"Yeah. English and Japanese, of course. And Tamaki already knows I speak French. Other than that, I know Chinese, Russian, French, Spanish, Italian, German, Farsi, Polish, Hungarian, Danish, Dutch, Latin, Greek, Swedish, Norwegian, Welsh, Portuguese, Finnish, Ukrainian, Belorussian, Turkish, Tagalog, and Hindi."

More silence.

"Any other amazing achievements?" Kaoru, sarcastically.

"I don't think so."

"Play any instruments? Besides piano?" Kyoya—he looks at her pointedly.

"Well…I play guitar and drums."

"And?" Again, Kyoya gives her a look.

She looks down self-consciously. "And I sing a little bit," she mumbles.

"What?" Tamaki leans in a bit, trying to hear.

She catches Kyoya smirking at her as she blushes.

"I sing a little," she says, louder.

"Ooh, that's nice!" Hani.

"I guess."

"Will you sing for us, Honda-senpai?" Haruhi. (Duh.)

"Perhaps one day." A pause. "And please—call me Yuki."

"How have you learned so much?" Tamaki.

"I went to a…special school. If I wasn't the best, I was the worst. Needless to say, I tried to succeed in every way possible—whether it be musically, in languages, or in flat out knowledge."

"What school was this?" Kyoya.

"My home."

"You were pushed _that hard_ by your own family?" Haruhi.

"Well, not exactly…but that's the best way to describe it."

"Are you the sole heir or something?" Haruhi.

"I used to be. Back when my family still had the company. Now, my mother simply expects me to set my own course. She doesn't truly care for my studies, nor does she expect me to marry rich. Of course, by now success is practically habit. I expect it of myself. That's why I'm so smart."

"Indeed," Kyoya states. "According to my research—"

"You _researched_ me?"

"Of course," he says calmly. "I would never let the Host Club or any of its members be associated with someone who could potentially be detrimental to their success. Now, according to my research, you have scored top marks in every class from the beginning. You must be some sort of prodigy."

"I suppose that's the only reason you deemed it alright to talk to me today, isn't it, Kyo-chan?" His face twitches, but she powers on. "I suppose I am smarter than average, but I wouldn't say I deserve any special merit for it. I simply like to learn. I always have. It's second nature."

"Does this mean we have three geniuses in the club now?" Hani asks innocently.

"No!" Yuki exclaims, startling everyone. "Firstly, I'll point out the obvious: I'm not part of this club. I'm simply an…honorary member. Secondly, I'm no genius. It doesn't matter what class stats or merit points say. The fact is, geniuses have to have a certain IQ, and I don't believe I'm quite qualified for that. My IQ is only, like, 155."

"You _do_ realize that that means you're almost as smart as Einstein, right?" Kyoya.

Yuki blushes. "Um…what?"

"Einstein's IQ was 160."

"Oh…um…well…Maybe I got the number wrong," she stutters. "I'm really not that smart. And I'm not a musical prodigy. It's just…one of those things. Everyone has one, right?"

Everyone just stares at her.

"Did you have any other questions?"

"Yes!"

Yuki sighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. So...this is obviously not an update, it's really just me changing the notes to let people know what's going down with me. This same note is gonna be posted in the notes of every one of my WIPs, so if you're reading multiples, you just have to read on of them--it's exactly the same note.
> 
> So, I'm a fucking retard. Like, maybe the dumbest person on the planet. What's that saying? "The definition of insanity/ignorance is repeating the same actions and expecting a different outcome"? Basically, yeah. Either I'm stupid or insane, because that's what I keep doing.
> 
> Okay, here's the gist--I. Don't. Do. Technology. I don't. And technology doesn't really seem to want to cooperate with me, ever, either.
> 
> Basically, I took everything off of my phone--pictures, videos, documents, music, everything that wasn't an app pretty much--and put it on my computer. Not a big deal, I've done this several times when I'm working on renaming or organizing or whatever.
> 
> Except.
> 
> My mom got a NEW computer. That means we have three now (four if you count the desktop that nobody uses and that doesn't even work really). She says we're getting rid of the oldest laptop--which is the one I always use--because it sucks and they don't make updates for it anymore etcetera etcetera.
> 
> So my dumb ass is like, welp, gotta get my shit together, and I took everything I had on that computer--yes, everything, again--and put it on a SanDisk FlashDrive.
> 
> And NOW THE DAMN THING WON'T FUCKING OPEN. Everything is gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.
> 
> Docs. Pics. 20,000 songs. Videos. Everything. My whole life--down the drain. I basically have to start over and I don't even know half the things I lost. I swear to every fucking god I can think of, if I have to answer for my screaming and crying one more time...
> 
> Anyway, yes, I'm a dumbass. I'm a crazy bitch. And I'm so, so, so, so, SO sorry for this shit. I know ya'll want to read this, but I don't have any of it anymore. It's gone. I have to start over. Honestly, half of my stories might not come back from this. I'll let you know. IDK what you wanna do, subscribe or bookmark or whatever you need to do to get updates, but it's gonna be a couple of months. If this had happened at the beginning of summer, maybe it would take less time. But I'm starting my first year of college, and updates were already gonna be slower even than my usual turtle-ness, so...
> 
> Anyway, I'm really, really, really sorry. Please don't hate me. I won't day it's not my fault, because it is, but I AM sorry that I'm disappointing everyone. Again.
> 
> Okay. Talk to y'all soon. I've got work to do.


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